


Coming Over Your Fears

by ennedepaix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennedepaix/pseuds/ennedepaix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After twelve years of Harry’s twice-monthly nightmares about being locked in The Cupboard Under the Stairs, Draco forces Harry to return to No. 4 Privet Drive, believing this to be the only way for Harry to finally overcome his fear. However, when he finds out the whole truth, he puts his own little, Malfoy-esque spin on how one “overcomes” such things…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Over Your Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Written for First Wave of hd_fqf for this prompt:
> 
> #31; Draco decides that Harry has to stop having nightmares about being locked in The Cupboard Under the Stairs and they both go back to No. 4 Privet Drive, ten years after Hogwarts, to face Harry's “fear”.

Draco Malfoy’s arse was freezing.

And he really couldn’t work out why. Now his feet were getting attacked by the cold as well. The feeling was now spreading through the entire length of his legs and the cold seeped into his back and shoulders. He opened his eyes reluctantly and found he was naked, but he knew that; he had gone to sleep naked. However, he had also gone to sleep under a sheet and three layers of blankets, all of which were now piled on top of his partner of twelve years: Harry Potter.

Harry was whimpering in his sleep. Again. Draco sighed as he sat up. He leaned over, getting closer to Harry so he could hear what he was saying.

“No… No, Uncle Vernon, not the Cupboard… Not again… Not the Cupboard…”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Draco muttered. He wrenched the blankets back to cover both of them again and tried to get back to sleep. That wasn’t an option. Draco never failed to be baffled as to why the order of events always, without fail, went as follows: 

One: Harry wakes Draco; either by blanket-stealing, limb-flailing or whimpering, crying and other such noises.  
Two: Draco heaves the long-suffering sigh, checks that the inevitable sleep-talking is Cupboard-related then proceeds to ignore it and try to regain his lost slumber.  
Three: Harry chooses the moment Draco is just dropping off to increase the volume.   
Four: If Harry doesn’t wake up of his own volition within the following ten seconds…

“Ah! What the… Draco!” Harry complained, waking up very suddenly. He sat up, glaring at his lover from his position on the floor. “What did you do that for?” he demanded, climbing back into bed.

“You were dreaming again and I couldn’t get back to sleep,” Draco replied. “What is it with you and that fucking cupboard, Harry? We’ve been together for twelve years and for those twelve years, I have had to put up with you doing this twice a month without fail. Do you know how many times I’ve had to do this? Twelve years, twice a month; that’s… two hundred and eighty-eight times! Two hundred and eighty-nine now!”

“How can you do long multiplication at this time of night?” Harry asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Because **I** am not drowsy from sleep because I didn’t fucking get any!”

“Is it really that bad?” Harry asked nervously.

“Yes! What makes it worse is that you won’t even tell me why you get so worked up about it. Yes, I’m aware having a cupboard for a bedroom when you were a child would not have been a pleasant experience but is it really nightmare-inducing?” Draco waited a moment. “Harry? Are you going to answer me?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Draco’s voice was a hiss. “I obviously don’t deserve to know. Here I was thinking that twelve years together might mean something to you, sentimental twat that you are, but clearly I was mistaken. Never mind, eh? As long as you’re happy with the arrangement, what does it matter to me? Do you think you can stay asleep until morning this time?” Draco watched as Harry’s chin jutted out in refusal to speak. “Right then. Goodnight, Harry.”

Draco turned onto his side, putting his back to Harry. He heard Harry sigh. Harry watched his lover for several minutes, watched as his breathing began to deepen and even out in a masquerade of sleep. Harry, however, knew he wasn’t asleep; the muscles in his back were still far too tense. He cautiously moved closer, slipping an arm over Draco’s waist, splaying his hand on the man’s chest. When Draco didn’t flinch, shrug him off or tell him to piss off, Harry risked a gentle kiss to the back of Draco’s neck, feeling him shiver at the touch. 

In less than a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

At those words, Draco shifted slightly, giving Harry enough room for them to share the same pillow.

“Go to fucking sleep, Potter.” The sting was taken out of Draco’s abrupt words when he moved back, pressing deeper into Harry’s embrace and entwined his fingers with those of Harry’s on his chest. Harry smiled and bestowed another kiss to the back of Draco’s neck before he closed his eyes.

***** 

Draco awoke the following morning when he heard the front door of the house close. He glanced at his watch, panicking when he saw it after half nine before he remembered, with blessed relief, it was a Sunday. He heard Harry’s footsteps travelling up the staircase and kept his eyes on the bedroom doorway until his lover appeared. Harry dropped the copy of The Sunday Times he had just been and bought on the chest of drawers then stepped up to the bed. Draco propped himself up on his elbows and Harry stared at him a moment. He kicked his shoes off then stripped his jumper and t-shirt off in one fluid motion and crawled across the bed to Draco. Straddling his thighs, he placed both hands on the man’s chest and leant down to give him a soft kiss.

“I’m sorry about last night. Twelve years do mean a lot to me. Of course they do, because, you’re right, I am a sentimental old sod but I just don’t like talking about it.”

“I sense this will be one of the few battles I may never win. It’s a real struggle being with you sometimes.”

“What, and you’re low maintenance, are you?” Harry asked wryly. Draco smirked.

“Beside the point. I’m serious, though; it’s not always easy. It’s hard but I suppose it’s worth it in the long run.”

“Really?” Harry grinned. Draco nodded.

“Yes. I’ll have you know I can often be found berating myself for loving you.”

“If it’s any small consolation, I do the same about loving you. Only, I get berated by several other people as well. You should count yourself lucky, really.”

“You’ve no idea how lucky I count myself,” Draco murmured, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry laughed. He then cocked his head.

“I really am sorry.”

“I know. Although maybe you should enact some sort of extra apology.” Draco smirked. “Mutually beneficial, of course.” Draco’s suggestion was met with a grin and a deep kiss.

***** 

Almost an hour later, Harry was grabbing onto the headboard, crying out as he rode the man beneath him. He threw his head back, moaning as Draco stroked his erection firmly, then came, crying Draco’s name. Draco wasted little time in pulling out and then flipping him onto his back, re-entering him slowly. Harry leant up, kissing Draco languidly, and pushed his hips forward, encouraging him to start moving again, something Draco was happy to oblige. 

“Do you love me?” The question came suddenly after a few minutes.

“You know I do,” Harry managed to reply between gasps. 

“Do you love **this**?” Draco’s second question was accompanied by a deep, hard thrust, which made Harry release a short scream.

“Is there any way I couldn’t?”

Draco claimed Harry’s lips in a fierce kiss, quickening his movements almost without realising. Harry scratched trails up and down Draco’s back before eventually digging his fingernails into Draco’s shoulders hard. Draco reached down and found Harry to be, miraculously, already half-hard again. He stroked him, at the same time making his own movements harder and deeper. Harry, feeling a sudden and desperate urge and need to feel Draco come inside him, squeezed around his lover firmly. Draco groaned loudly, stroking Harry faster every time he felt the squeeze repeated. With this combination, it wasn’t long before they were both coming, screaming each other’s name. Harry closed his eyes, breathing heavily, and Draco rested his head against Harry’s shoulder for a moment before carefully withdrawing from his body. Harry whined at the loss, as he always did, and Draco rolled onto his back. Harry turned his head and kissed Draco’s arm, it being the only part of his body he could reach without some form of extra movement. Draco also turned his head but he went as far as to lean over and kiss Harry properly and lengthily. Harry smiled with a satisfied sigh when they parted and his eyelids fluttered when Draco ran long fingers through his hair. 

Draco turned over to look out of the window, checking the weather, and when he looked back, Harry had fallen asleep. Draco chuckled lowly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before he got out of bed.

After washing and dressing, he grabbed the newspaper Harry had left on the chest of drawers and made his way downstairs. He read the paper undisturbed in his living room for half an hour until there was a sharp rapping at the front door. He waited more than a few seconds before he got up, correctly anticipating who had disturbed him.

“Good morning, Mrs Gent.”

“Afternoon, actually, Mr Malfoy,” the woman, mid-forties, informed him tersely. Draco checked his watch; eleven fifty-seven.

“Not by my watch. Did you want something?” Draco made sure he sounded noticeably bored as he leant against the doorframe.

“Yes. As we sat in our kitchen this morning, my husband and I were greatly disturbed by the noise you and your… lover…” she spat the word, “insisted on making.”

“I didn’t **insist** on making any noise and neither, I imagine, did my lover. It just comes out; heat of the moment and all that palaver. Although, I imagine you’d find it hard to understand. With the amount of time it’s been since you had sex, you’ve probably forgotten what it’s like. Would you like me to draw you a diagram, perhaps?”

“How dare you, you insolent young man. I’m only glad my children aren’t at home to have heard what we heard this morning.”

“Please, Mrs Gent, your children are nineteen and twenty-one years old. They’re probably shagging people non-stop; I know Harry and I did at that age. I’m sure they have no qualms about hearing other people at it.”

“Don’t you start on about my children.”

“You’re the one who brought them into this conversation!” Draco defended himself.

“Mr Malfoy, all I ask is that you keep the noise down during your… activities.”

“No. Why should we? We’re in our own home, indulging in our favourite pastime. We shouldn’t have to change because you can’t handle a little bit of noise. You’ve no need to go around making demands because you’re jealous that someone else is having fun. Here’s an idea: why don’t you stop being a frigid cow and let your husband have some much-needed sex? Then we wouldn’t need to keep the noise down; you could drown us out with some of your own womanly shrieking or something.”

Mrs Gent spluttered senselessly before gathering her wits together and letting her words come out in a yell, “You are an intolerable man, Mr Malfoy! Don’t you have any manners?”

“I have enough manners not to complain about noise made while someone is making love to their long-term partner. I mean, really, it’s rather rude of you to be here at all; intruding on our sex lives, that’s what it all boils down to.”

“What’s going on?” a groggy voice questioned as a hand landed on Draco’s hip.

“Here you are, talking to me about manners when you’ve gone and woken Harry up.” Draco shook his head disappointedly. “Honestly, Mrs Gent.” He said no more and slammed the door in his neighbour’s face. He turned to Harry, draping an arm around his waist.

“What was all that about?” Harry asked, pressing into Draco’s embrace. Draco ran his thumb back and forth over the small of Harry’s back as he replied,

“Mrs Gent felt the need to complain about the noise we made earlier.”

“What, when we were shagging, you mean?”

“Yes,” Draco said brightly. He shifted, twisting his neck so he could lean down and kiss Harry. “There was no intention to wake you up.”

Harry, knowing Draco was actually apologising indirectly, smiled. “It’s okay. I suppose I shouldn’t have stayed asleep much longer anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Draco smirked. “You did a lot of work.”

Harry chuckled, blushing slightly. “Was worth it,” he murmured, standing on tiptoes for another kiss. “I’ll go have a wash and get dressed. Fancy doing something this afternoon?”

“I fancy doing **you**. Does that count?” Draco questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“It depends how rested I feel.” Harry gave him a teasing kiss and made for the stairs. Draco shook his head in amusement and returned to his paper. Picking up the Home section, he flicked through the adverts for private sales and caught sight of a familiar name. Privet Drive. He squinted at the small but clear picture and was amazed. 

“What are the odds?” he murmured, the small ‘4’ staring up at him. He read the small caption beneath the picture: _Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Well-appointed 3-bed house. Large garden. No chain; vacant property. Guide price: £199,950. Open viewing begins tomorrow, 10a.m._

The words ‘vacant property’ echoed in Draco’s head and his mind started working overtime. He’d heard a lot about facing fears being the best way to overcome them and he wondered if it was true. Surely it was worth a try. He looked down at the paper again and noticed a second picture next to the main one. It was of the back garden of No. 4 and showed the presence of a massive shrub next to the kitchen window. Definitely big enough to hide behind. He heard footsteps and quickly shut and folded the paper, grabbing and pretending to read a different section. Harry came into the room and Draco looked up with a small smile. Harry perched himself on the arm of Draco’s chair.

“What are you reading about?”

Draco glanced at the headline quickly. “Prince Charles and Camilla Parker-Bowles, apparently.” He tossed the paper aside. “I had an idea for this afternoon, by the way.”

“Really? What might it be?”

“Ah. I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a surprise. Do you want a surprise?”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged. 

“Let’s go now.” Draco wanted to get this done as soon as possible before his morals found their way to the surface and he started to feel guilty about deceiving Harry. “I’ll Apparate us there.” He stood, removed his wand from his pocket and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him up also. “Ready?” he asked. Harry nodded. “Right, here we go…”

They arrived right behind the large shrub Draco had been aiming for.

“Where are we, Draco?” Harry asked, looking around. He then turned and saw the house. He looked through the window and a frown marred his face. He turned to Draco, who looked surprisingly sheepish. “Draco? Please tell me we’re not where I think we are.”

“I don’t know where you think we are, love,” Draco said, evading the question. He pulled Harry towards the patio doors and muttered a quick, _Alohomora._ The doors slid open and once Draco started moving inside, Harry dug his heels in.

“No! Don’t you dare. I can’t believe you brought me here, you bastard. Why would you do this to me?”

“You need to be here. I need an explanation for what goes on while you’re asleep. I’m sorry, Harry, I’m sure it’s very selfish of me to be doing this but you need to be here, too. You need to face your fears. You can’t honestly say you like having nightmares twice a month the way you do.”

“I don’t but that doesn’t mean I want to be **here**. I don’t want to face my fears. I’m quite happy with my back to them, thanks.”

“You know what? I don’t care what you say. You’re going in there, you’re going to open the door of that fucking cupboard and you’re going to tell me what it is, specifically, that gives you nightmares.”

“I’m not going in there.”

“Fine, I’ll just have to take you in there, then, won’t I?” With that, Draco grabbed Harry around the waist and lifted him up over the small step, into the house. Harry kicked his legs, making contact with Draco’s several times, and tried to push and pull at Draco’s arms to no avail. Draco managed to get him through the dining room but Harry’s hands flew out and clung to the doorframe before Draco could get him out into the hall. “For goodness’ sakes, Potter, trust you to do something I thought only happened in cartoons.” Draco yanked sharply and Harry’s hands came free of the doorframe.

“Let me go, Draco! You are such an arsehole! I hate you, you know that?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure it’s a burning, fiery, all-consuming passion with which you hate me but I’m honestly beyond caring at the moment,” Draco replied calmly. He tried to reach out to open the door of the cupboard under the stairs but Harry was still flailing far too much. “Harry, I have no qualms with using _Petrificus Totalis_ if you don’t stop bloody squirming.”

“Oh really?” Harry seemed to consider this and then, realising Draco was probably being quite honest, stopped struggling. Draco sighed and Harry dropped his feet to the floor. Draco cautiously opened the door to the cupboard and peered inside while Harry stared at the opposite wall fixedly. 

“Harry, I can honestly say there seems nothing scary about this cupboard.”

“Nothing at all?” Harry asked, looking at Draco, who was still holding him firmly with one arm. Draco shook his head. Harry guardedly looked in then squealed, jumping back and clinging to Draco. “It’s still there,” he whispered.

“What’s still there?”

Harry’s voice was a hiss as he replied, “The **Thing**.”

“What thing?”

“ **The** Thing.”

“Oh, that helps.”

There was a pause and then Harry began to speak. “It’s in the wood. It used to stare at me; watch me when I… did stuff. It always watched.”

“When you did what stuff?”

“When I… touched myself.”

Draco couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “It watched you when you wanked?”

“Shhh! It’ll hear you!”

“What is **it**?” Draco asked. Harry fearfully, reached in and pointed. Draco bent over, stepped inside the cupboard and looked in the direction Harry had pointed, in the middle of the slanted roof. “Oh, Potter, you must be joking,” he muttered. “It’s a knot in the grain of the wood, you deranged maniac.”

“It’s a face!” Harry shrieked. Draco cocked his head.

“Well, I suppose it does have some passing resemblance to Weasley’s latest spawn. Is it really what used to scare you? Because you thought it watched you when you had a wank?”

“It did watch me!” 

Draco sighed and sat down, leaning against the back wall, with the Thing in his sights. “Get in here, Potter.”

“No.”

“Come on, just get in here. Sit in my lap and I promise I won’t let you go and nothing bad will happen.” He reached a hand out to Harry, who took it slowly and let himself be pulled down and inside the cupboard, onto Draco’s lap. Draco found the cord for the light, pulling it to switch on and closing the door. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. So, it used to watch you when you wanked, did it?”

“Yes.” Harry glanced untrustingly at the Thing.

“Bit perverted for a bit of wood, isn’t it?” There was no reply. “You do know it’s just a bit of wood, don’t you?”

“I suppose so but however I looked at it, it always looks like a face and it always looks like it’s watching me.”

“So… if we found a way for it to look different, it wouldn’t be so scary?”

“It wouldn’t be so scary.”

“Right then.” Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s neck and crept a hand onto his crotch. “When you were wanking and it was watching you, did you look at it?”

“No, I used to cover my eyes.”

Draco started moving his hand and eventually felt Harry becoming hard underneath the layers of clothes. “And it was still always there when you opened them again, was it?”

“Yes.” 

“All right. Harry, you’re going to do exactly as I say, no arguments,” Draco said, his tone practical as he unzipped Harry’s trousers and delved into his underwear, carefully freeing his erection. “I’m going to toss you off whether that thing is watching you or not. You are not going to touch any part of yourself or me with your hands unless I tell you to.” His fingers wrapped around Harry’s cock and he began stroking. He heard Harry moan and craned his head to see Harry’s eyes fluttering closed. “Open your eyes, Potter. You’re doing what I tell you, remember?”

“God…” Harry fought to open his eyes.

“Look at it, look at the thing you’re so afraid of. Is it watching you? Is it watching while I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Watch it back.” Draco kissed Harry’s neck again and quickened the movements of his hand. Harry groaned and his hands clawed at the walls and floor. “Keep looking. Is it still watching you?”

“Yes… still. Fuck, Draco.” Harry’s hips moved into Draco’s hand roughly. “Oh, more, going to… gonna…”

“Close your eyes, Harry, now,” Draco instructed. Harry did, instantly, his moans becoming more frequent and louder as Draco’s hand became more demanding. Draco glanced up at the Thing and then down at Harry’s cock. He tilted his hips, which in turn tilted Harry’s, just before Harry came with a cry. “Keep your eyes closed, Harry.” Draco looked again at the Thing and smirked. _Oh, I really am brilliant,_ he thought. He waited a few minutes, until Harry calmed down. “Open your eyes, love.”

Harry did so, looking up at the Thing. Except, the Thing didn’t seem to be there. Not in the way it had been, at least. Harry frowned. The Thing, now covered in Harry’s come, which was slowly running down and threatening to drip onto Draco’s shoes, didn’t look like the Thing anymore. Harry’s come, soaked into the wood, had made the different shades in the grain darken and merge into one big, dark brown splotch. All the different shades that had been what made the knot become the Thing were all the same. There was no face anymore.

“But… It… It’s gone.”

“Let’s hope over **coming** one’s fears really does work.”

******* 

Two weeks later, Draco was awoken in the middle of the night. Harry was squirming around, getting tangled in the blankets, whimpering.

“No… No, don’t, please… please…”

Draco sighed but then, listening to more of the whimpers, quirked an eyebrow. 

“No, don’t stop, Draco… Please touch me… Fuck me…”

“Well, well, well,” Draco murmured. “This certainly is interesting.” He lifted the blankets and found certain parts of Harry to be not quite as asleep as the rest. He could put up with being woken up twice a month if this was the reason. He brushed a hand over Harry’s stomach and Harry’s hips bucked up, almost violently, and Harry cried Draco’s name so loud he woke himself up. He looked a tad confused.

“Draco?”

“Bad dream, love?” Draco asked, adopting an innocent tone as he glanced down at Harry’s groin. Harry also looked and then blushed. “Don’t look so worried, Harry,” Draco cooed, climbing atop Harry. “I’m sure I can think of something to cure your problem,” he said, purposely brushing his arse against Harry’s erection, leaving little doubt as to what he planned to do. Harry moaned and Draco smirked. 

Mrs Gent was not going to be happy with them. _Serves her right,_ Draco thought. He then set about kissing his nightmare-free lover and relishing in doing so. Mrs Gent was just jealous anyway; what did one more night to be jealous of matter?

_\- fin -_


End file.
